


Fostering the Love

by SmilesRawesome



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Child Abuse, Flashbacks, FosterLock, John Loves Sherlock, John is Sherlocks caregiver, John is a Saint, John is a Very Good Doctor, Kid Sherlock, Kidlock, Mycroft is a very caring brother, Nightmares, Other, POV Mycroft Holmes, POV Sherlock Holmes, Parentlock, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Loves John, Sherlock is broken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilesRawesome/pseuds/SmilesRawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's life gets turned around when the man in suits take him away from his mean, mean, mean parents. There are good things, like, his parents not hurting him, learning all these new things, but the bad outweigh them. He's lost his brother, his bee and his dog, everything that had ever been important to him. He doesn't know how to cope with it all until he meets a special doctor who teaches him what the word 'adopt' means. <br/>*DISCLAIMER* The relationships listed in the tags are not in a "couple" relationship type. (If that makes sense)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this something I really want to keep working on, and have been thinking of writing for a while, please let me know what you think so far?

There was one thing Mycroft knew about himself, and that was that he was a coward. A great big coward. He walked past the police station every day, he could so easily go in there and report his parents. He had enough evidence on his body to get them locked up for the rest of their lives. All he had to do was walk in there.

 

But he didn’t, he didn’t dare. What would happen to him if he told? What would happen to Sherlock? Four years old and the boy couldn’t even say anything other than ‘Mycroft’ and ‘Buzz’. The kid couldn’t even say his own name. He had been scared out of learning to talk, and it was all his fault. He should have gone to the police the first time Sherlock had been hurt.

 

At least today he could bring some comfort to Sherlock. It was one of the boys birthday in class, and he had brought in a bag of those ‘fun size’ chocolates for everyone to share. He had taken one, and he was going to share it with Sherlock. The little boys very first chocolate. He just had to hide the wrapper in the outside bin so they wouldn’t get caught.

 

_Go back and tell the police. No it’s too late now, Mother and Father expect you home. You’re on the street now, they can see you, it’s too late you idiot. You really are just a big coward. A good brother would never let little brother’s get hurt in the first place._

 

He had the chocolate in his pocket, the wrapper in his hand. His parents were nowhere to be seen, so it was safe to place the rubbish in the bin. Keeping his ears strained for any noises, he lifted the lid- _oh no_.

 

A small stuffed bee, worn and used and oh so precious to Sherlock, in the bin. Their parents had found it, or him with it. They weren’t allowed toys or sweets or anything, and Mycroft had risked everything by stealing ten pounds out of Father’s alcohol money to buy him the little bee, which Sherlock had named Buzz. He had always been so careful, because if their parents had ever found out-

 

“ ** _MYCROFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT-!_** ”

 

“ **You little shit! Did you get that for him? Oi!** ”

 

Mycroft was no longer listening, he was running. He was clutching Buzz to his chest and running, running as fast as he possibly could because he was Sherlock’s last hope, he left his bag behind and just kept running. Sherlock – Sherlock – Sherlock – Sherlock –

 

He knew the way, he had studied it on his walk to school so many times. He could see the station now, he was so close, so close to saving Sherlock. He was so close. He stopped just outside the door to the station, could he really do this? Could he really betray his parents? They loved him, he was sure. He just kept doing the wrong thing. He had grown used to the beatings, grown up with them, he knew he deserved them. It took one glance at the small bee in his hand to push the door open. He may deserve the beatings, but Sherlock didn’t. This was for Sherlock. This was all for Sherlock.

 

Being so small, it was easy to go unnoticed. Since he went unnoticed, he had no idea what to do. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of Sherlock, all alone under his parents attacks, there had to be something he could do.

“Hey buddy, are you alright?”

 

He snapped his head up at the sound of a voice, gulping thickly as he saw a police officer. The man seemed kind enough, with warm brown eyes and he just had to say it, say those simple words and Sherlock would be saved. He shook his head in answer to the mans question, swallowing again as he tried to rebuild his courage.

 

“M- m- my parents... M- my brother...” he stuttered out, and instantly hated himself even more. Why couldn’t he just do this?! It was for Sherlock! The man was still looking at him kindly, not judging him at all, all he had to do was say it.

 

“Myparentsarehurtingmylittlebrother-“ he forced himself to say, squeezing the bee tightly between his hands. There. He’d done it. He... He’d actually done it... He blinked for a few moments as he processed what he had just done, before everything came rushing out of his mouth.

 

“My parents are hurting my little brother right now. Thirteen Everfrost Drive and you need to save him, you need to get him out of there, please!” he begged the man, a few of the tears from earlier running down his face. The man nodded, standing and guiding him with a hand on his shoulder. Mycroft didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying exactly, he couldn’t stop crying, grasping onto Buzz tightly, holding the soft toy close. He could see how Sherlock found comfort in him. He heard the man tell people his address, and he was led away again, soon hearing sirens as he was directed to a soft looking chair in an office.

 

“Alright now, what’s your name? If you can, would you be able to tell us how long this has been going on for?”

 

He looked up at the man, noticing for the for the first time his name tag. Lestrade. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, swallowing thickly. This was for Sherlock. This was to protect Sherlock.

 

“My name is Mycroft Holmes, sir... and this has been going on for as long as I can remember.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's been told to behave. He does what he's told then meets... someone nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS, BUT HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!

Sherlock wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but at the same time, it was all so clear. Mummy and Daddy had been drinking the yucky smelling stuff again, and Daddy had hurt him when he tried to get some lunch. So he had run off and grabbed Buzz from his hiding place and sat down in his cupboard, hugging the soft bee to his chest.

 

He’d heard Daddy’s big steps pounding up the stairs, heard him calling for him. ‘Where are you ya little shit?’ But he just stayed put, stayed quiet. Mummy and Daddy never checked this cupboard when they looked for him. He was safe here with Buzz, safe in his little hiding cupboard.

 

The cupboard door had been opened and there had been pain. Someone had taken Buzz away and it was just pain and pain and pain. Hitting, kicking, throwing, smashing, clawing, and then a window. A window! He could get help! Mycroft was there! Mycroft would help him! Mycroft always helped him... He screamed for his brother but all his brother did was run away. No! Mycroft couldn’t run away! He needed him!

 

Thoughts of his big brother were smashed away by a fist and he retreated into his head, where there were bees and pirate ships and a puppy that was all his own. This was a safe place, no one could hurt him here, not even the hurts he already had. There was yummy food everywhere and he was allowed to eat it and he could never ever go hungry.

 

When he came out of his safe place, there were people in blue everywhere, his parents were locked in a car and he was being held by someone in a suit. He frowned, squirming even though he was still hurting. He didn’t know this person. The man shifted him and he saw Mycroft talking with some of the blue people.

 

“Mycroft!” he called, reaching out for him, but the man holding him was walking away from him. No! He wanted his brother! “Mycroft! Mycroft!” he called again, and he saw his brother turn towards him.

“Sherlock!”

 

But the suit man was already putting him in a car, strapping him into the seat and he couldn’t escape.

“Mycroft!” he screamed once more, smashing on the glass of the car as the _stupid, stupid_ suits man drove away.

 

~~~~((Seven Months Later))~~~~

 

Foster Home number four had dropped Sherlock back to the suits people two weeks ago. Nobody ever liked him. Everyone always said “he’s too much work” or “I can’t deal with a kid like him.”

 

It was because he was a big, stupid, ugly, baby. He tried to be good, he really did. But every time someone touched him, he thought they were going to hurt him like Mummy and Daddy always did. Especially number three, because they always tried to force him to talk and call them Mummy and Daddy and all his Mummy and Daddy did was bad so this Mummy and Daddy had to be bad to, right?

 

They hadn’t been. He was always just too scared. Sometimes, he would just tense up, sometimes he would push away and do his best not to cry and other times...

 

Other times it was like he was back with them, he could feel Daddy’s breath, smell the yucky drink stuff on him, feel him throw him across the room. He could feel Mummy hitting him, could feel her nails digging into his skin, and when he came back, he was crying and shaking and found it very hard to breathe.

 

Not to mention the nightmares. Every single night there was one.

 

All this time and they still hadn’t let him see Mycroft, not that he had asked. He couldn’t. He had only known a few words; Yes, No, Mycroft, Buzz, but he had been far too scared to say those words ever since he’d been taken away.

 

There was supposed to be another Foster Family coming in to meet him today, and Sherlock had been told to sit on the bed with the scratchy blankets and behave. Not having _anything_ else to do, he had just sat there, waiting for hours. Well, it could be hours, he wasn’t good at time yet. Mycroft would be. Lunch was called but he had been told to sit here and behave, so he would do that. So long after lunch someone opened the door. He looked up and saw Christie, and then he sat up straight. He liked Christie (but he hadn’t been able to smile since he’d lost Mycroft).

 

“Sherlock, there you are, darling. We’ve been looking for you. Why didn’t you come to lunch, sweetie? Your new foster came to meet you. Come on, he’s still here.” She smiled at him, and he nodded, slipping off the bed and out the door. He was hungry, but he’d thought he wasn’t allowed to move...

 

Wait, _he’s waiting_? Not ‘they’re’. He’s. Just one man. Why? It was always a family. Christie stepped around him as he reached the bottom of the steps, walking over to a man in a soft looking jumper.

“Sherlock, this is John. John, this is Sherlock. John is going to be your new foster parent, is that okay with you, sweetie?” Christie asked him. Sherlock wasn’t sure. He didn’t know anything about this John person.

 

But John smiled at him, and he seemed so nice.

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you. I’d really like you to come live with me, but only if it’s alright with you. If you wanted we could go get lunch, since you weren’t here for yours.” And then there was the hand.

 

They always wanted him to shake hands, touch them in some way and he just... couldn’t.

 

He wrapped his arms around himself, swallowing thickly as he looked up at him. Everything else sounded so nice and good, John was going to think he didn’t want to go with him.

 

And he took his hand away.

 

“It’s alright. Some people don’t like touching. I understand. I was a bit like that for a while too. I know a good fish and chip shop, do you like fish and chips?”

 

Sherlock blinked for a few moments, confused by what John was doing. It was unlike anything else. Then he nodded, stepping closer to John and relaxing his arms. No smiling, still not yet.

 

John smiled at him and took his bag of clothes from Christie. He had to wait a bit for John to sign some papers but then they could go, John being careful not to touch him, but he wasn’t pushing him away either, and it was wonderful.

 

He just hoped John would let him stay after he’d seen him with a nightmare...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, I'LL GET TO THE NEXT CHAPTER AS SOON AS I CAN!


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